Ever after
by kouw
Summary: 'Sequel' to 'Growth'. Charles and Elsie are married and living a life of domestic bliss in Downton Village. Newlyweds are all the same, but these two get a never ending stream of visitors needing their advice too! Rated M for grown up teddy stuff. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Sometimes you get an idea and you think: I'll sit on it for a bit and then write it out and it will be forking brilliant.

I never turns out that way. But I do want to share this with you and I hope you will forgive me for it. At least it will have smut. Because I can't write anything without smut anymore. It is the follow up (sequel?) to 'Growth', so if you haven't read it yet (and you are of age), you might want to read that first, but this story can be read as stand alone. Do I need to give an AU warning? Oh. Okay: AU Warning!

* * *

Sometimes at night they lose each other. When she wakes up, she searches for him. Sometimes he isn't there, she strains her ears, listens to the sounds of the cottage. A tap running. A door closing. When there is no sound, she checks his bedside table to see if his watch is there, his cufflinks. His reading glasses.

She isn't afraid he will leave her.

She just prefers it when he is there beside her. His leg pressed against hers, her hand in the soft curls on his chest. His hand on her hip. Slowly sliding upward, caressing the underside of her breast. Nuzzling his neck, her fingers sliding over his stubble. When they get up, she watches him shave. It's his ritual and she marvels how he never hurts himself. How the roughness makes place for coolness and smoothness.

She doesn't often wear a nightgown anymore. The bed is big, he is so warm beside her and she wants to feel all of him, but she is wearing one now. There are iceflowers on the window, she can see her breath in the room. They have been married for a while now. The first flush has passed, they have settled into a routine, they opt for comfort instead of excitement.

"Charles?" She calls out, she doesn't want to get up. She has stuck her toe out of the bed and had pulled it back quickly, afraid her big toe might freeze off. She is not getting out of bed unless someone gives her a very, very good reason.

"Charles?"

"Yes?"

"Where are you?" She pulls the covers around her some more, cuddles up.

"In the kitchen."

"Are you coming back up? It is frightfully cold!"

She hears his hesitating footsteps on the stairs. The door opens and she pushes herself up on her elbows. He is wearing his robe, his hair is still ruffled from sleep and he is carrying a tray.

"What are you doing?" She scrambles up and shivers. Charles puts the tray on the bed and picks up her cardigan from the chair and hands it to her. She pulls it around her and opens the covers so Charles can slip in.

There is tea and toast and jam on a saucer. "This is lovely, you shouldn't have. Is there something special today?" She butters a piece of toast and hands it to him.

"You don't remember? I am mortally wounded." He takes a big bite and winks at her.

She pours herself a cup of tea and tries to remember what he means. "I don't know. It must have been so cold back then too... was it?"

"It was. There was snow on the ground and a hailstorm was happening at the exact moment." He sips more tea. She touches his cheek. He has already shaven.

"The day I came to Downton?" She puts down her cup, takes his, puts the tray on the floor. "It is lovely of you to remember. But that wasn't today. It's next week."

"Is it?" He gathers her in his arms, tucks the covers in around them. Her head is on his chest, the rumbles of his heart, his even breathing, it all soothes her. The weeze that had started a few years back in the servants' quarters is all gone.

"Hmm..." She tries to find her spot, wiggles about a bit, his grip gets a little tighter.

"Stop fidgeting."

"I can't find my..." His lips come crashing down on hers and he pushes her back in her own pillow.

"You stay there then." He gets back to his own side of the bed. She sniggers, knows how annoyed he gets when she wiggles about a lot. To make up for it, she lets her hand run towards him, touches his stomach, covered by his pyjamas. Turns to her side, presses the palm of her hand to the valley between his navel and his pyjama waistband. She can feel his strong muscles contract as he rolls over on his side and faces her.

"What are you doing?" He asks, his eyes twinkle.

"Nothing..." She feigns innocence. They both know what she is doing. His hand reaches for the hem of her nightgown, raises it as he slides his fingers over her calf, the inside of her knee, the back of her thigh. He cups her bottom on one side, his hand solid against the soft, firm flesh of her buttock through her knickers. "You, however..." Her voice trails away as he plants kisses on the base of her neck, licks her collarbone after pushing off the woolen cardigan.

Her hands find their way into his pyjama top, feel this skin on the front of his shoulders, she leans to him, their lips meet. Their kisses are fire, burning, she shrugs off her cardigan, it ends on the floor, she undoes the buttons of his pyjamas and he wrestles himself out of it. Their naked forms pressed together under the blankets and sheets, their sexes only separated by their underwear. Her breathing is laboured, she wants him closer, to feel his weight on top of her. She tugs at him, her lips travel down his jaw, neck, breastbone. His hand is in her hair, carefully undoing her braid, they twist and turn, the covers almost slide off them.

"Watch it!" He exclaims and pulls them back up and around them. The intermezzo has given her time to get rid of her underwear and she straddles his leg, the sheet around her shoulders. She doesn't sit up straight like she normally does, but she grinds her core against his underwear, finds him aroused, lets herself fall on top of him, she pushes down his shorts and lets him feel how much she needs him. His hands are on her bottom, his lips keep finding hers, he breathes loudly and his hand travels to her breast, cups it, fondles it and she takes hold of him, guides him to her entrance, hovers.

His moan of frustration is music to her ears and when he takes hold of her and pushes her off him and she finds him between her legs, she can't do anything put wrap them around his waist. His fingers are at her nipple, she moans, unable to hold back. Her head presses into the mattress as he enters her, fills her completely and they move together, finding their rhythm, holding on to each other, holding on to the covers and their sounds echo against the still bare walls of the bedroom.

"I love you..." she mumbles in his hear, nipping at his earlobe, her nails scratching at his back, catching his thrusts, her climax building within her. "Don't stop..." she pants, once, twice, three times. "God..." Only when she is so close it almost hurts, profanity slips from her lips and she feels how his thrusts become more erratic, he groans her name, pushes himself deep inside her, loses himself as her walls come shattering down.

He lays down beside her, her head is on his chest again, a film of perspiration makes him shiver. She puts the covers over them, listens to his heart beat. She is just about to drift off, when she hears his voice rumble:

"I came to bring you breakfast, because we are having visitors this morning..." His voice is as sleepy as she feels.

"We can pretend we're not home..." She offers.

"The curtains are still closed. I think they would knock down the door. They seemed quite... adamant they'd come over. It is their only half day together."

"Who are coming over, Charles?"

"Anna and Mr Bates." He yawns widely, kisses her temple, she feels him drift off.

"You mean 'John'." She finds it hard to stay awake. The exercise, the warmth of the blankets, Charles solid form...

"Hmm... 'John'... Anyway. They are coming around at eleven, after church. We have missed church, by the way."

She doesn't care. This morning she worshipped her husband, she has no doubt it was smiled upon. Then she realizes it is late, that she has only little time to get ready if she doesn't want Anna to see her in her robe with her hair down. She scrambles out of bed, shudders at the combination of the chill and the feeling of something leaking away from her.

"Come on!" She almost yells. She pulls her shift over her head, runs around to get clean knickers from a drawer, puts them on.

"Charles! Get up!" She urges him, puts on her dress, reaches behind herself, closes the fastenings, looks in the mirror, shakes her head.

"You should have told me they were coming over, how could you seduce me like that?" She pushes pins in her hair, glancing at the mirror, but mainly trying to stare down Charles, who is moving at an exasperatingly slow speed.

"You'll find, if you think back, that you seduced me, dear wife." Charles puts on his socks, his shorts, vest, trousers.

"It doesn't really matter, does it." She snaps. "I am going downstairs, I don't want to be caught with the curtains still closed." And she races down, opens the curtains, takes the bolt off the door, runs into the kitchen, puts the kettle on. She hears him come down the stairs, calmly and he comes into the kitchen and slides his arms around her from behind.

"Are you alright?" He asks and nuzzles her neck. She closes her eyes, her lip catches between her teeth.

"Stop it..." She sighs, the memory of his strong hands all over her body still so vivid. She feels how their morning lovemaking is staining her underwear. She turns in his arms and is about to kiss him with great abandon when they hear the knock on the door. He goes, still the butler in a way, always showing their visitors in, almost announcing them.

"Elsie? Anna and... John are here!" She hears his hesitation and smiles to herself.

"Anna! Why don't you come in here, give me a hand?" She calls for the former housemaid, now Lady Mary's lady's maid. She waits for the girl, pours the hot water in the pot, gets a tray together and Anna comes into the kitchen, looking thoughtful and tired.

This is not a social call.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** What a labour of love, this chapter has been. Still not satisfied with how it is, but sometimes you just need to let go, so you can get on with the next chapter. Reviews very much appreciated, let me know what you think and let me know who you think should be visiting next!

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After the Bates's visit, they had eaten lunch - well, Charles had made them some sandwiches - and had a snooze in the garden. They didn't have tea and she had warmed up yesterday's leftover shepherd's pie for dinner. They had made tea and curled up on the sofa together, Charles reading his book, she knitting and listening to the wireless.

But now they were upstairs, Charles was already in bed. He had brushed his teeth - loudly - and had washed in the small bathroom and she was now sitting in front of the mirror of her vanity (a gift from her Ladyship) and brushed out her hair. She then took off her dress and slip and undid her stays and pulled a nightgown over her head. The room wasn't as cold as when they had woken up - she had left the door open, even though Charles didn't approve of it, he didn't like to have to put more logs on the fire, saying it was less-than-thrifty. There were two hot water bottles in the bed and she would cuddle up close to her husband. Tonight she would not be cold.

She put away her hairbrush, folded her clothes and got into bed, crawling under the covers, pressing herself against Charles, who had taken his book up with him and was still reading.

"So..." she started. "What did you think?"

He looked up from his page, his eyebrows crinkled. "What do you mean?"

"Charles!" She admonished, taking his book and putting it on her nightstand. "What did you think about this morning? The visit!"

"Oh. Well... it really isn't any of our concern, is it?" He said thoughtfully, not quite sure himself.

"Isn't it? Anna was in our care for over fifteen years. We have a responsibility." She said, determinedly.

"Sarah O'Brien has lived in our company for over twenty years, do you feel you have a responsibility towards her too?" He asked and she nodded.

"If she knocked on our door, asking for my advice, trying to find someone to listen, I wouldn't turn her away. No. But I don't think we can compare Anna to Miss O'Brien, now can we." She could hear her accent become more pronounced as she became more excited.

"You are a kind woman." He leaned over and kissed her hair.

"Do you really feel it is none of our concern, though?" She asked him now, disregarding his remark.

"I am not sure, Mrs Carson. But you seem very adamant that it is. So tell me what is on your mind." He scrunched down until his head laid on the pillow and opened his arm wide. Elsie wiggled until she had found the perfect spot on his shoulder before she started to speak again.

"They came to us because they feel uncertain of which path to take, even though it is so clear to them. Obviously they know what they want to do, but they don't want to seem ungrateful, disloyal." She manoeuvred her hand between the buttons of his pyjama top and touched the soft curly chest hair she loved so much. "What do you think?"

"It would be a very different life for them." He answered without hesitation. "Very different indeed."

"But would that be so bad?"

"I have hardly known a different life from Downton, first as footman, later as the butler. I didn't long for a different life, being in service gave me purpose, a goal and I had the respect of my staff and I like to think the regard of my employers."

"I am sure they held you in great esteem, Charles. But you weren't married. You didn't long for something besides what service could give you, you just said so yourself. I know Anna does and I assume John does too. All he ever wants is for Anna to be as happy as possible." She inhaled Charles' scent deeply. She closed her eyes for a moment. They were talking now, she needed to focus on his words, not his warmth, the feeling of his skin under her hands, the steady heartbeat she heart thrumming under her hear.

"What is that she wants then? I can't imagine that running a pub between them is going to be a great improvement from being a valet and a lady's maid."

Elsie smiled and shook her head a little. "Oh, you..." She lifted her head of his shoulder and looked at him. "Don't you understand? They want to spend more time together. You heard them: John is being whisked off to London at the drop of a hat, has to sit in trains for hours and when he comes home, his leg is always worse. That is not good for a young married couple."

"But they have a half day together on Sunday and a whole Saturday every other week." Charles said, his voice ever so reasonable.

"That is hardly enough to start..." Elsie fell silent. Did he really not understand that Anna may seem young to them, but that time was marching on for her too? Didn't he understand that Anna wanted a chance to have a family of her own? A child to nurture and raise. She sighed deeply.

"Enough to start what?" He turned over to his side and touched her cheek. "Do you think they want thát?"

"I am positive Anna wants to have a family. Every time Anna comes over to visit, I think: she is going to tell me there is a little one on the way. And the Grantham Arms is not a pub, it's an inn. They would do very well. There are the locals who will want to keep it as their..."

Charles chortled and said: "Local?" He brushed away a lock of hair from her face.

"Yes... And they could live in the rooms over the back and have two or three rooms to let. It would be a great way to earn a living. And they would still be close to all their friends."

She had almost said 'us'.

Almost. Charles hadn't heard her hesitation and answered, calmly, evenly.

"It is a good plan. But why they feel they would be disloyal to the family is a mystery to me. I mean, yes, his Lordship had taken Mister Bates on as his valet when we all thought it could not be done and he was a great champion for Mister Bates when he was so wrongly accused of … well, all that business is in the past now. Has been for a couple of years. I wouldn't think his Lordship would begrudge Anna and Bates a life together?"

"No. Nor do I. But I think Anna is more concerned about Lady Mary and leaving her now." Elsie still didn't care much for Lady Mary, but she knew Anna loved her very much and Charles had still a very soft spot for the girl. She knew better than to say anything against the young woman, the next countess of Grantham.

"What do you mean 'leaving her now'?" His eyes were alert.

"What with there still no sign of an heir and everything so pressured." Elsie lay back on her back and thanked her lucky stars she had married Charles for his love alone, at a time nobody would ask rude, insensitive questions.

"Anna cannot wait for that. It wouldn't be fair." Charles said after a moment's pondering.

"No, it wouldn't be. Well. Glad we had this talk."

His nearness was so intoxicating, she had been holding on long enough now. "I'll visit Anna tomorrow evening in the cottage and have a bit of a talk with her." She started kissing Charles' jawline after turning back to her side and pushing her hips forward, against his. She felt his reaction immediately.

"You, Mrs Carson, are a dangerous woman..." His lips came crashing down on hers and he swiftly had her pinned under him.

The conversation was soon forgotten in a frenzy of rocking movements, pants and sensual moans that ended in a deep, husky cry from her, calling out for him.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Warning: super smutty chapter ahead.  
Just so you know.  
(if you don't feel too embarrassed, please leave a review, I really appreciate them and they help me write, believe it or not)

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Elsie stood hovered over a pan of slowly simmering water and she was just about to stir it and crack in an egg when she felt the strong arms of her husband snake around her waist. She shrugged them off.

"Can you not leave me in peace for more than a moment, Charles?" She scolded in exasperation.

"Just giving a you a goodmorning cuddle, dear." His answer came quietly, his voice rumbling like it always did, but it bothered Elsie. She was trying to poach an egg for the man, did he not see? And did he not know that cooking was not Elsie's forte?

"Just, get out of the kitchen." She didn't even look at him, returned to the water, picked up the egg and took a deep breath. She broke the shell on the edge of the pan and...

There his hand was, on her cheek and the egg just dropped in, forming a clump on the bottom of the pan.

"Charles! I told you to leave me alone! Look what you've done!" She turned on her heel, bumping into her husband, then pushed him away. "I do not want you in here! I am trying to make you breakfast and you make it impossible! Just... go into the garden or something."

There were ice flowers on the windows, a cold draft slipped through the cracks between the floorboards.

"I am not going into the garden, Elsie, love. It is far too cold." His calmth infuriated Elsie even further.

"I do not care where you go, I do not want you here. Leave me in peace to poach that... that... that stupid egg for you!"

Charles smirked a bit and left the kitchen and Elsie stood once again over the pan, stirred the water and slid in a new egg carefully. She stared at it, the white swirling around the yolk, her words ringing in her ears still.

She was still fuming, which puzzled her a little. Since their marriage, they had not yet fallen out. Back when they still lived at Downton, two separate units as it were, they fell out all the time, though not like this. She smiled a little when she thought how they would have fought if they had married long ago. They were both strong minded people. Strong willed. Opinionated and not always of the same opinion.

Last evening she had gone to visit Anna and had a talk with her. About the future. How she could not wait for Lady Mary to produce an heir to get her own life started. That she had given her youth to the Crawleys and there was no shame, no wrong, in wanting a life of your own. That if they could make the payments on the Downton Arms, they should do it. That they should start venturing out, start their new life together, without answering to anyone else. To start a family, now they still had the chance.

When she came home, Charles was already in bed, fast asleep. She had undressed and brushed out her hair and washed. She had crawled into bed and pressed herself against him, but he hadn't woken. She had felt rejected, though why was a mystery even to her. She couldn't expect a sleeping man to simply wake whenever his wife caressed his chest and carefully touched him there.

Now she was making his breakfast, she sniffed, toast was ready and she pulled it out of the oven. Only a few burnt edges. She didn't care, she didn't slice them off like she normally did. She made a pot of tea and brought everything to the table: the poached egg on a saucer, toast in the holder, a cup and the pot of tea. She gave the porridge a last stir. Hardly any lumps, she was quite proud of herself. She called out for Charles.

"Breakfast."

He came in with another wide smile and was to give her another cuddle, but she put her hands on his chest to keep him away from her.

He finally caught on and looked sufficiently puzzled.

"Elsie, you have been in a mood all morning. Whatever is the matter?" He sat down and picked up a piece of toast and buttered it.

Elsie glowered at him. "How can you possibly not know?!"

"Well, firstly you haven't said anything, so you are making me guess and my guesses, no matter how educated, never truly hit the spot with you. You are a very mysterious lady, Elsie Carson."

"I am? Funny, I always think of myself as completely see-through." She watched Charles cut into his egg and the yolk streamed over his toast. At least she had managed to poach an egg. Another difficult cooking task mastered.

"In some cases you are. But right now..." He took a sip of his tea. "Hmm... that hits the spot. That drink last night with Mr Worthing really hit the spot." He rubbed his forehead.

"What do you mean? Was Mr Worthing here?" Elsie had not noticed any sign of there having been a visitor in the house last night.

"Yes, he came over for a drink. He brought this eau-de-vie his son had taken with him from France. A rather potent drink..." He drank more tea. "Had Worthing halfway drunk by his first glass, so he decided to go home early and I managed to clear everything away and then to hoist myself into bed, but I am not touching that stuff ever again, I can tell you. Knocked me out cold. Never even noticed you coming ho-... home." He looked up from his plate, she could feel it, but she kept hers on her own plate.

"That's it, isn't it? You are upset that I didn't wake up."

Elsie fiddled with her knife. It sounded quite silly now. Having been so hurt by something so trivial. She nodded faintly.

"You daft girl..." Charles rose from his chair, slowly walked to where Elsie was sat.

"If I could have woken up, you know I would have. You know how I like to have you close to me when we fall asleep."

He gently pulled her up from the chair. The legs made a scratching sound over the floor and she looked at where the noise came from before turning back to Charles, whose eyes were twinkling. The back of his fingers softly stroked her cheek.

"Elsie..." His lips were on hers, a soft and gentle kiss. An apology, she knew. And she let him. She let him rub his strong hands over her back, she let him set a trail from her lips to her jaw to her neck and collarbone. She let him ghost his fingers over the swell of her breast as it showed over the collar of her dress.

Her hand found its way to the nape of his neck, touched the soft curls, pulled him closer, trapping his hand between them. He kissed her again, passionately, his tongue found hers, one arm wrapped around her waist after pulling it away, the other hiked up her skirt, felt its way over her stocking, along her leg. First on the outside of her knee, but slowly, agonizingly slowly, he let it run to the inside of her thighs, his index finger touched the seam of her knickers and she gasped.

He pressed her against the kitchen table, grabbed her plate and reached around her to put it on an unused chair.

"I am sorry..." he mumbled against her cheek. "If I had been awake... I would not have let you get into bed..." He undid her dress, helped her slip it down her arms. "I would have hold you close... and closer... and I would have delicately undressed you, like this, in the lounge and I would have touched you... everywhere..." His hands touched her breasts through her stays, pulled her close to him and his rumbles sent shivers down her spine. She forgot all about the poached egg, about the porridge still on the stove - she had turned it off, ever the careful one.

She grabbed onto his collar, pulled him so his lips are on hers again, unbuttoned his shirt, pulled his vest from his trousers. She wrapped her legs around him, holding herself steady between the table and him.

"Take me upstairs..." She breathed in his ear, almost unable to think as he nipped at the tender skin of her shoulder.

A smile appeared on his face, lighting up his eyes and she knew they would probably not make it there.

He was still so strong, even though he didn't carry crates of wine and champagne from the delivery cart to the cellars anymore. Must be all that gardening, she vaguely thought as he lifted her up and took her through to the lounge, where he gently put her down on the settee. Her legs still in the air, he took hold of her knickers and slid them down her legs, before kneeling before her and burying his face in her center, lapping at her core, making her squirm and pant.

Her hands found their way to the top of his head, slightly tugged at his hair. Her hips bucked, she whimpered when he stopped, got up from the floor and she left her place on the settee, slightly dizzy, but determined as she stood against him, so close. She could feel his desire high on her hip, the course tweed chafing a bit against her skin. She took a step, so he had to take one too. Another step while she undid his trousers and it fell down to the floor. Another as she dragged down his shorts, freeing his erection.

Another step, he was against the wall, she leant against him, put her arms around his neck, stood on her toes to kiss him and he put his arms around her waist and swiftly changed positions and she was trapped between him and the wall, a delicious closeness she never gets on the settee. He lifted her leg, held her thigh in his strong hand and positioned himself at her entrance. She longed for him, she felt the moistness of her centre leaking onto her thighs and she tried to move to feel him closer.

"Stop it..." She hissed and took his earlobe between her teeth and tugged before letting go. "Take me..." Her nails were scratching at his back. "Take me now..." Her voice was hoarse, her breathing came in short, laboured pants. He didn't tease her any longer and slid inside of her, slowly, in a long stroke. She cried out, almost ready to come right there. She had to find her bearings for a moment and then she put her other leg up and let him thrust.

After a few minutes she felt how he was tiring and she let herself down and took his hand.

"Come with me..." she said quietly and took him up the stairs into their room and laid down on top of the bedspread, her arms and legs wide open, welcoming him. He ran his hands over her stomach upwards and cupped her breasts as he took her again.

In bed everything was familiar. They knew exactly how to move to give the other the most pleasure. Elsie gave herself completely, her back arching as Charles hit an extra sensitive spot, her hands clawing at the sheets as he sped up the rhythm. She could hear how his climax was building and how he was holding back to give her the opportunity to come first, but she wasn't that close yet, so she nodded and she felt how he spent himself inside of her.

He carefully laid beside her, leaving her, but replacing his desire with his hand, stroking her, inserting one finger first, then two, bending them and her breath stuck in her throat before moaning loudly, pushing her ankles into the mattress, pulling the sheet loose it's perfect corners.

"Oh... Charles..." She almost croaked, unable to catch her breath as her orgasm washed over her, made her tense up and release in rapid succession and she laid there, completely spent and relaxed and softly stroked Charles' arm with her hand.

"You're forgiven..." She said and gave him a dazzling smile.

"I'm glad." He answered and crawled between the covers, held them open for her and she laid down beside him, her head on his shoulder as his arm wrapped around her.

"It's morning." She said.

"I need a nap." He said.

And they fell asleep, being woken by the winter's sun slipping through the window, tickling tickling their faces. They washed and dressed and she made lunch.

Egg and bacon sandwiches.

She was just pouring a cup of tea when someone knocked at the front door.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** A shortish chapter, a bit meh, but sometimes you need a bit of meh to get to the next better thing. Which I will start on as soon as I can.

* * *

"You are something elsie, Elsie Carson." Charles grumbled. Elsie was brushing her teeth in the bathroom and didn't quite catch it.

"What's that, dear?"

"Leaving me to care for Charlie while you spoke to Ethel in the kitchen!"

Elsie came into the bedroom, wearing a nightgown, patting her face dry.

"You were having a grand time, I heard you talking and laughing and I know you helped him build a big tower from the playcards your Mr Worthing left here the last time he was drinking your claret."

"Our claret." Charles corrected her. "And we did have a good time. He is growing up to be a strong little lad."

Elsie saw the glimmer of pride in Charles eyes and she climbed into bed, turning to her side against him. She was the little spoon and he the big one, his hand softly on her hip, his face so close, she could feel his breath in her hair.

"Don't you want to know what Ethel came here for?" she asked, pressing her bottom against him, making him groan, his hand slide up.

"Do you want to tell me about Ethel or do you want a rerun of the events of this morning?" He held her close.

Elsie smiled from the memory, a warm rush of blood going to her sex, but she pushed the thought of Charles hands on her naked skin away and said: "Ethel's heard from Mrs Bryant."

She loved dropping a bit of a bomb, but she did not like it when Charles didn't acknowledge it. "Did you hear me?" She turned in his arms, to look into his eyes.

"I heard you. Well. What did she have to say for herself?"

Elsie was aware of how Charles felt about the Bryants, about Ethel's incapability to keep her legs together (not that he had ever minded when Elsie had opened hers for him, Charles wasn't shy of applying a bit of a double standard now and then) and she knew he still hadn't forgiven her for looking out for Ethel when the girl had no-one else to turn to.

"Major Bryant's father has passed away." She heard how cold and harsh her voice sounded.

"Oh? And is that going to alter things for Charlie?"

She liked how his mind immediately went to the boy, a little blond fellow with bright blue eyes, a happy smile and a keen intellect. Charles cared for Charlie, she knew, more than he let on, she could see it in the way he picked him up after falling and scraping his knees and hear it in his voice when he told the boy stories. There had been times when she had offered to look after Charlie and she had found both Charles and Charlie asleep on the settee after lunch. It had stirred feelings in her chest that she did not know she possessed. She was thankful for having made the right decision when Ethel had come to her, urging her to do something.

"Mrs Bryant wants to help." She said, thinking of other words, but finding none.

"Financially?"

"Yes. And she wants Charlie to go to a school away from Downton." Her heart clenched together. She couldn't bear the idea of Charlie being sent away to Shrewsbury or whatever it was called or some such place. A place where young children were sent and bullied. To her, the village school was good enough.

"What nonsense." Charles said and it reassured Elsie. "What would a countryboy need with boarding school? I am all for education, but he can just as easily go to the village school. And after, maybe go on to Ripon and learn a trade." He sounded very decisive.

"So you are not going to train him as a footman?" Elsie laid her head on his shoulder. She wasn't sure if she was teasing him or if she was serious.

"He'll be better off as a car mechanic." There was a hint of sadness in Charles' voice.

"Why?" She asked though she knew. The serving classes were slowly diminishing. The war had shown there was a whole new world out there for the lower classes. Charles didn't answer, but pulled her closer.

"Mrs Bryant means well, she couldn't help her husband was such a bully." He was stroking the underside of Elsie's breast with his thumb quite absentmindedly. Elsie let him, though it made it that much harder to concentrate.

"No, she isn't much to blame." She answered, but she knew that if it had been her grandson, she would have fought a lot harder.

She fight for him now. Charlie was part of her family. Nobody was going to take him from her, she would physically fight anyone off who laid a hand on the boy.

She felt how Charles' breathing was evening out, he was falling slowly asleep, she'd have to be quick with her request, the question she had had on her lips since Ethel had left.

"Charles? Dear? Will you stay with Ethel when Mrs Bryant comes?"

"Hmm... Sure, Elsie." He agreed sleepily.

"No, but really though? Charles? We need you in our corner." Her hand clutched at Charles' chest hair.

"Yes. I will stay with you and Ethel. I won't let anything" - he yawned - "...happen to our lad." And his eyes closed.

Elsie was certain he wouldn't remember half of this conversation's ending in the morning, but her heart swelled with a love for him she had not felt before. A love that stung a bit, but filled her with an intense pride as well. She lifted her head of his shoulder and turned, scooting close, her bottom against his hip. He turned in his sleep, wrapped his arm around her, making her feel loved and safe. She fell into a deep sleep and was woken by the sounds of Charles putting on the kettle the next morning.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**: A super long, super smutty chapter! Might have gone a bit overboard, in which case I apologize, but only a little. Reviews terribly appreciated!

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This was the first winter she had to wash her own windows and she was standing on the stepladder with the sponge and vigorously wiped the dirt away. Cold water trickled down her wrist to her elbow where it was absorbed by the fabric of her dress. She was wearing old fashioned thick cotton stockings and her boots. She had wrapped herself in Charles' overcoat and closed it with the belt of her robe. She knew she must have been a frightful sight and if it weren't for the muck blown of a farmer's cart this morning she would have left it until the warmer weather came.

At least the sun was shining, unlike when she arrived at Downton. There had been a North Eastern storm combined with hail. She had knocked on the back door, which had been opened by a terribly handsome first footman. He had taken her valise and pulled her inside. She could still feel his warm hand around her cold one. He had let her take off her hat and helped her with her coat, heavy from molten hailstones and sleet. Every time he had touched her, accidentally no doubt, she had shivered.  
But it had not been from the cold.

Elsie finished the last window quickly and put away her bucket, put the stepladder back in the shed and went inside. Charles was in the village, ordering their weekly supplies. It gave her time to get her surprise ready.

She checked the clock and let out a gasp: it was much later than she thought. She ran upstairs and pulled something from under the bed and undid her hair. She kept her stockings and boots on, but changed her underwear, rather clumsily with her boots still on. Again she checked the clock and quickly put on the things she had ready in her wardrobe. From her vanity she took a small handful of pins and did her hair. She looked in the mirror and smiled. With a deep breath she put away all the evidence she'd even been there and went downstairs, took her coat and hat. Just as she was closing the back door, she heard the front door open.  
Perfect timing.

She made her way around the house and she heard Charles calling her name. She smiled, almost chuckled in anticipation, but pulled herself together fast when her knock was promptly answered.

The look on his face was worth the slight discomfort caused by lack of wear her garments were giving her.

"Good afternoon, my name is Elsie Hughes and I am to work here as housemaid from tomorrow. The housekeeper wrote that I best come today." She thickened her accent, imagining it would have been more pronounced then.

Charles nodded and stepped aside after taking the valise she was carrying. He didn't say anything yet, just stared at her. In awe, she hoped. She was quite proud that she still fit so easily in her corset and dress and she let Charles go first into the parlour.

"Welcome, Miss Hughes. Would you like a cup of tea?" Charles fell back into his butler persona without fail and Elsie smiled, happy he understood her plan and a fluttering warmth started to build in her core.

"I'd rather freshen up first, it's been a long journey from Dumfries, Mr?"

"Charles Carson. Mrs Palmer told me you would arrive today, your room is ready. If you follow me, I will show you the way."

He went back into the hall and started to ascend the stairs slowly, the valise still in hand.

"Do you always show the new maids to their rooms, Mr Carson?" Elsie asked, a tone of amusement in her voice not to be denied. All those years ago she had answered his question in favour of the cup of tea, today she had a much different plan and she loved how Charles was playing along.

"Only if the housekeeper is elsewhere occupied, Miss Hughes."

"Elsie."

"Elsie. Here's your room. The headhousemaid doesn't share, so you can use the wardrobe and drawers to your liking." He said as he opened the door to their bedroom and let her go past. He brushed the back of his free hand against her bottom and Elsie gasped slightly.

"Oh, this is lovely." She turned and held out her hand to take the valise, which Charles gave to her with a tiny smile. She put it on the bed while Charles started the short speech she had given countless times herself.

"There are a few rules to be obeyed at Downton, Elsie,"

She pulled out a pair of shoes.

"First off: no followers."

A light blue blouse followed.

"Breakfast is served promptly at seven thirty,"

A dark blue corset with light blue laces and embroidery. She heard Charles' sharp intake of breath.

"Erm... Err... Ahem. Headhousemaid doubles as lady's maid for guests who haven't brought their own,"

The sheerest of shifts, Charles took a few steps closer, touched her hip.

"Sunday mornings are free to go to church..."

A pair of her new satiny knickers were pulled out of her hands and discarded, the one hand on her hip was joined by his other hand and she turned to be caught in his arms. Their lips found each other, their kiss held a passion she associated with the times they made love in one of the upstairs rooms, ready to get caught.

She felt how Charles hands wandered over her back, how one cupped a cheek and the other started to pull up the skirt of her dress. The tips of his fingers found the garter she used to hold up her stocking and he slid over it, touching the skin of her upper thigh, creeping under the hem of her bloomers. She put her arms around his neck, kissed him frantically. When he let her go, she breathily said: "Is this how you welcome all the new maids, Mr Carson?"

"It's Charles, I am no butler yet and no... I don't remember welcoming any maid like this, to be quite honest..." He returned to the elaborate task of unhooking her dress. She turned in his arms again to give him easier access, pressed her bum against his groin, feeling his desire twitch against her. The hooks opened one by one, he pushed the sleeves down her arms, helped her to step out of it, started to kiss the skin that is naked about the edge of her corset.

She reached behind her and found the waistband of his trousers and managed to undo the fastenings. She wanted to push them down, but forgot about the suspenders he's prone to wearing these days. The tweed grazed across the skin of her palm as she let her hand wander. The soft cotton of his underwear was so different and she felt his member strong and almost ready for her.

Elsie couldn't hold back any longer and took hold of Charles' hand, led him to the bed, pushed him back. He watched her as she grabbed the laces of her corset and loosened them. Her breasts slowly sank a bit and she snapped open the busk, freeing herself from the confines. How comfortable it was to wear a corset, she fleetingly thought, the thing gave her support and a sense of being upright without having to make an effort.

Even better was Charles look as she took it off. His hand reached for her breast, touching it through her shift, his thumb going back and forth over the stiffening nipple. She put her feet one after the other on the edge of the bed to take off her boots. His nimble fingers helped her take off the stockings, holding on to the garters for a second or two before pulling her close, making her straddle him, the cotton of her bloomers riding up herself, getting moist, feeling Charles obvious want for her so close. She laid her hands around his face, kissed him sweetly.

"Happy Elsie-came-to-Downton-day!" She whispered in his ear.

"Luckiest day of my life..." He answered before falling back on the bed, taking her with him, rolling her over, pinning her under his form.

He kissed her again and again, touched her through her shift, nipped at the soft skin of her chest. He raised himself up on his knees, pushed the hem of her shift up, his palms flat on her body. She shivered under his touch, lifted her bottom from the bed to aid him in taking it off. As she came up slightly and he took off the shift, her breasts touched his chest and he held her close for a brief moment before laying her down again and lavishing her breasts in tender kisses as his hand slid down her bloomers, his fingers sliding past the moist curls in between her folds.

She spread her legs with a low cry as he inserted a finger. Elsie made short work of his suspenders and shirt, pulled and tugged so he was wearing his trousers only.

"I need your help, Mr Carson. There is still a lot I don't know..." She spoke softly in his ear and sucked at his earlobe. He took his hand off her and got up from the bed, ridding himself of trousers, socks and undershorts. As she saw him in his full glory, she couldn't help but come up, sit on her knees and touch it. Her hand wrapped around it and gently rubbed up and down, before leaning over and taking him in her mouth.

As she sucked on him, she felt him take out the pins in her hair and she wondered how he could concentrate enough on the task when she felt the painful pull of a pin being yanked as she swirled her tongue around the head of his member. She let him go, a short moment only, gingerly touching her head.

"I'm sorry..." She heard him murmur and she smiled at him and went back to the task at hand. As she bobbed up and down, she ran her hands down her sides to the waistband of her underwear and untied the ribbon used to hold it up and let it drop. She felt how Charles gently placed his hands around her face now and drew her away from him.

"Come..." He said and he pulled open the sheets and they both got in bed, touching each other completely, kissing softly and gently, his hand stroking her upper thigh and cupping her buttock, pulling her even closer, so close his erection was making her uncomfortable and she lifted her leg to accommodate him, feeling how he slid against her folds, making her moan and hold onto his shoulders. A few well placed moves was all it took for him to slide deep inside of her, making her cry out again and pulling him on top of her, wrapping her legs around his waist, scratching her nails on the skin of his back.

There was nothing gentle about his thrusts, he drove inside of her and she met him with relish, her eyes closed, her head thrown back. The bed creaked louder and louder as Elsie's gasps and pants became more pronounced. Charles' moves became increasingly erratic, shuddering as he lost himself inside of Elsie, pushing her over the brink, making her whimper and then well up.

As he tried to catch his breath he wiped away her tears with his thumb, kissing the track one had made on her cheek.

"I love you, Elsie Hughes."

"And I you, Charles Carson." They sealed the testimony with a kiss.

"Oh... and Mr Carson?" Elsie wiggled to free herself of him, letting him roll on his back and cuddling up close.

"Yes?"

"It's Elsie Carson, if you don't mind." She petted his chest with careful fingers, her voice was slightly husky still.

"Oh, I don't mind. I don't mind at all." And with that he pulled her close, wrapped both his arms around her and they both fell asleep, the garments all forgotten on the floor.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **The good thing about this chapter is that there is something actually happening. The bad thing is... well... you'll see for yourselves.

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Her hands still trembled when she poured the tea she had decided to make to steady herself. Anger and nerves and fear had made her temper flare up and she was still shaking as a result.

Ethel and Charlie had gone home, Mrs Bryant was in her car on her way to London.

She picked up the sugar spoon and carefully dropped one, then two spoonfuls of light caster sugar in her tea and stirred, much more vigorously than needed. She thought about how Mrs Bryant had brought Charlie a gift, wrapped in colourful paper and how she had sat straightbacked on her settee and had calmly stated that it was time that the boy had gone with her, to get started on his education.

Charlie had sat in a corner, played with his new toy car and had tried to make himself as small as possible. Ethel had started off quite reasonable, giving all sorts of compromises. Mrs Bryant had shot down all suggestions, held on to her idea of taking Charlie.

Charles had tried to reason with her, even opted for Mrs Bryant to relocate to be closer to her grandson.

Elsie had remained as quiet as possible, trying to keep her temper in check. She handed out sandwiches and scones and honey - courtesy of Daisy Mason - poured tea and kept herself busy with some sewing. A new shirt for Charlie as it happened.

Mrs Bryant had raised her voice to Ethel, who had started crying, Charlie had jumped up to comfort his mother, but Mrs Bryant had tried to grab him. Elsie had dropped her sewing and laid her hand around Mrs Bryant's wrist like a vice. The lady had yelped and let go and Elsie had lifted Charlie to her chest, his blond head pressed against her, tucked under her chin and she had said some dreadful things, things she could never take back.

Now she sipped her tea, slowly and looked around the kitchen. Perhaps it wasn't much and perhaps Mrs Bryant was indeed able to give Charlie more, materially. In terms of education and opportunity. She sighed deeply, a tear from frustration trickling down her cheek. She was just pouring another cup when Charles came in.

"Well..." he started and Elsie bowed her head. "They are home safe and Ethel told me to thank you."

He sat down and dragged a cup and saucer towards him. Elsie silently poured him tea. She looked at him, waiting to be berated.

"It's been a long time since we saw the Scottish Dragon spit fire." he calmly stirred his tea and picked a biscuit from the tin.

"And all so eloquent too." he went on and laid his steady hand over Elsie's trembling one.

"You would think I'd learnt by now. That I wouldn't say the things I just did." she brushed a tear from her chin with an angry move. "Oh, I am not sad or anything. I am just so... So..."

"Angry. Yes. I noticed as much..."

"The things she said, they were just so awful, the things about Ethel being a tramp and us being not in any way respectable. Us! We are married! What else she said about us corrupting Charlie with our 'carrying on'... I couldn't hold back and I lashed out."

"Yes. Remind me to never get on your bad side, Elsie. You do not fight fair. "When Charlie needed you most, you and your husband asked for proof. There wasn't any and now you think to take him? There is not a shred of evidence that you are in any way related to him, so I thank you to leave my house!" it was quite the speech, my love." Charles drank more of his tea. He looked solemn, worried.

"I did apologize and we parted as amiably as possible." She defended herself. She remembered Charlie shaking with crying in her arms, Ethel sobbing on the settee and Mrs Bryant sniffling in her handkerchief. Charles had been a trooper, had pacified them all by being practical and logical. Telling Mrs Bryant to come back another time, that she would have access to Charlie whenever she wanted, telling Ethel to pull herself together and then he had taken Charlie from Elsie's arms, had held the boy tight and took him to the kitchen, telling Elsie this was not good for the lad to be this upset and that she had better fix this.

Fixing it had not been easy, but after more tea and a lot of talk they had come to the agreement that Charlie would be seeing his grandmother once a month, chaperoned by his mother, Charles or Elsie and that they would all think about how things could be arranged to Charlie's greatest advantage.

"All in all it was more a success than a failure." Elsie contemplated, looking at her tea and feeling as if she had tea running through her veins instead of blood by now. She must have had three pints of the stuff.

"Indeed." Charles agreed.

Elsie got up from her chair and leant against the kitchen counter.

"What would you like to eat?" She asked, with nothing that could be constructed as motivation in her voice.

"I don't know. What do we have?" Charles asked, picking up his cup again, watching his wife pace the floor.

"I think there's leftover toad in the hole." Elsie started. The idea of eating was making her nauseous. She swallowed a few times. "Or I could whip up some bangers and mash..."

"Or..." Charles pushed his chair back with vigor and strode over to Elsie. He took her in his arms and kissed her soundly.

"We go and get some chips. How about that? We never do that and we both enjoy it."

Elsie looked at him and smiled. "Yes. That is a very good idea." She held Charles hand and pulled him with her, out of the kitchen into the hall.

"Let me get my coat." She said after putting on her hat. She looked in the mirror to check her hair and saw how her cheeks were still flushed with the excitement of the day.

"Whatever will they think at the chippie..." She whispered to her reflection.

"They will think your adoring husband stole a kiss of you in the lane." He opened the door and let Elsie go first and as she passed he whispered loudly:

"And they wouldn't be wrong!"

**A/N: **Bet you all want chips now... Sorry...


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** I am a sentimental soul and this chapter is all sorts of fluffy and sentimental. Hope you don't mind.

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"Elsie?" Charles voice rumbled through the cottage.

"Yes?" Elsie called from the bedroom.

"What are you doing?"

"Changing the bed. What are you doing?" Elsie smiled to herself as she pushed the sheet between the bed and the mattress.

"I have been waiting for you. Your tea has gone cold."

"I'll be down shortly. I am surprised at you, Mr Carson, sitting in the parlour in the middle of the day. Have you no work?"

"I do have but one job..." His voice trailed away.

"And what is that?" Elsie threw up the quilt and it landed perfectly on top of the blankets.

"Oh... you'll find out." Charles voice came closer and she heard his footsteps. She turned, a pillow in hand and found him standing in the doorway.

"I remember you doing this when you were head housemaid." He took a few steps towards the bed. "You would pick up a sheet and send it flying. I always wondered how you made it fall so precisely on the bed, hardly a crease."

"Practice." She answered, placing the pillow on top of the quilt. She looked at her work, smoothed out a crease with the back of her hand.

"There's other things you are well practiced in these days." Charles took her hand and pulled it slightly, so she would take a step and turn to him.

"Are there?" Never had she imagined that Charles Carson had such a wicked sense of humour. He had said repeatedly that he was no gentleman (which she very much disagreed with), but to know that he would seduce her at every hour of the day, that he would make risqué jokes and that he would be so tactile, she would never have guessed.

He lowered his face to hers and she leaned towards him for a kiss.

"Very well practiced..." He repeated. He let his hand run down his wife's side.

"Anna is coming over in a bit." Elsie announced and took his hand and squeezed it. "Come, lets go downstairs. Is there still tea in the pot?" They left the bedroom hand in hand and clumsily walked down the stairs, both unwilling to let go of the other.

"Why is Anna coming over?" Charles asked, settling Elsie on the settee and pouring her a cup of tea.

"Oh..." She sipped her tea. "This is indeed gone cold." She grabbed Charles' wrist when he wanted to get up to make her other tea. "Stay..." She kissed his lips lightly when he leaned in.

"I suppose Anna is coming over to tell us that they have come to a conclusion." She kissed him again.

"A conclusion?" More kisses, his arm around her waist, her head on his shoulder between kisses.

"That they have made their decision."

His hand touched her cheek, her neck. "They will probably have gotten the funding for the Downton Arms and they will go and live there and make a wonderful go of it." She let herself be pressed back against the cushions, put her arms around his neck.

"Leaving service for an uncertain life like that..." She pulled him closer, lifted her leg and wrapped it around his hips, pulling him close.

"They are leaving to make a life of their own." She kissed him again, hungrily.

"Would you have liked that?" He slid his hand down her side, grabbed hold of her bottom, pulled her even closer.

His tongue slipped between her lips, found hers, they duelled, danced. Elsie moaned softly when he started to lift the hem of her dress, touched the inside of her thigh.

"Liked what?" She couldn't think, he licked the side of her neck with the tip if his tongue.

"A life out of service, a shop or something?" He pushed her stocking down, she felt the tingle deep within her, arched her back to push herself fully against him. He was breathing heavily, his sentences were fragmented.

"I don't know..." She worked at the buttons of his shirt. "Maybe..." She pushed it off his shoulders. "Sometimes..." She nipped at the newly exposed skin.

"If only..." Her stockings were both off, he let his fingers wander the inside of her thighs and she felt how he slipped them between her skin and the elastic of her knickers and she hardly knew how to react.

"Don't... We can't change the past." She undid the fastenings of his trousers.

"If we could... what would you like?" He stopped his administrations for a moment, looked at her, intently.

She stared into his eyes, so intently, she thought she could almost see his soul in there.

"I would have told you 'I love you' so much sooner."

"Like I would." He pushed a strand of hair from her forehead.

"I don't know if it would have changed our lives." She put her hands on his cheeks, cupping his face.

"Maybe we would have left service, together, like Anna and Mr Bates."

"We don't know if they are leaving, I just think they might. Anna would so much like a family." A familiar tightness settled in her chest.

"Would you have liked a family?"

He was relentless in his questions. They were no longer panting, her legs were relaxed on the settee, he put on his shirt now she let go of his face.

"I think I would have liked to have had a family with you. But I don't think our lives are any less because we don't."

She pushed him away with a gentle hand and picked up her stockings and pulled them back on. He pulled up his trousers. He sat next to her, opened his arms and she cuddled up close.

"If we would have left service and we were the way we are now, I have no doubt there would have been a lot of babies..." He whispered in her hair. She chuckled.

"Who knows, maybe Anna and John will have lots of babies. And Ethel might marry. Or even Daisy."

"We are already parents in a way, aren't we?"

She heard how his voice caught and grabbed his hand, squeezed it.

"Maybe not parents. But we have a family." She pressed her head tighter against his chest, let herself be embraced by him.

Then there is the long anticipated knock and she got up, planted a kiss on his hair.

"That will be Anna."

"Yes."

"I'll let her in and you will make us some tea. There is a tin of biscuits on the shelf."

"Alright." They smiled at each other.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

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**_Reviews very much appreciated_**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** The toast turned out to be quite the inspiration... Hope you'll enjoy this smut-free chapter!

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"Here you go, Elsie. Are you feeling a bit better?" Charles handed her a cup of tea and sat down on the bed. The mattress sank and she almost fell against him. She wasn't very strong yet.

Elsie had played with Charlie, cuddled the boy, had held him close until he fell asleep and then she had walked home. She got caught in the rain and hadn't thought to bring an umbrella. By the time she arrived at the cottage, she was soaked to the skin.

Instead of undressing quickly and getting into a hot bath to warm through, she had allowed Charles to slowly peel the water laden garments off her, paired with his gentle touches and fiery kisses. The next morning she had woken up on the settee, covered only by Charles arm, shivering and feverish. The fever had worsened quickly, the doctor was called, influenza diagnosed.

"I am a bit better. Thank you." She put her hand on his arm and he laid his on top of it, squeezed it gently. She sipped her tea and looked outside.

"Spring is here." She stated. Before she fell ill, the air was still cold and the trees were bare. Now there was a green hue on the shrubbery around the house and the willow tree across the street looked like it was wrapped in soft green dew.

"It is. The days are lengthening and it isn't as cold anymore." He took the empty cup from Elsie. "Would you like something to eat?"

"No, thank you." She smiled at him.

"You look awfully thin, I wish you'd eat something. How about a piece of toast?" He tried.

"Alright. A piece of toast. To make you happy." She reached out for him, put her hand on his cheek. She watched him go from the room and scurried back under the covers. Her had sank into the pillow. Sitting up for only a few minutes already made her feel a bit woozy. She closed her eyes and waited for Charles to come back.

"Are you asleep?" She heard his whisper.

"Not quite." She answered.

"Anna's been here a fair few times. Wanting to see how you were getting on, bringing me a bit of hot dinner, telling me about the Grantham Arms. Things are going very well. Everything has been refurbished and they already have paying guests. People like John as the barman, it seems. At least they keep coming for their pints." He handed her the plate with the piece of toast. It was perfectly even brown and he had put a bit of jam on the plate as well.

"A treat."

She picked up the knife and spread the jam on the toast and started nibbling on it.

"Things are going well then. It must have been very hard for them. They must have felt terribly insecure."

"Hmm."

"What 'hmm'? You approve, don't you?" Her question was a bit of an accusation.

"Yes, I do." He replied calmly. "Of course I do. No, I was just thinking that things might be going well, but Anna did look a bit pale. I hope she won't be coming down with that flu too."

Elsie turned to him, her toast halfway between the plate and her mouth. "Pale?"

"Pale and tired. But she was smiling all the time, so she won't be that ill, I don't think." Charles took the plate from Elsie and put it on the nightstand. He helped her back and tucked her in.

"No..." Elsie mumbled. "No, it's probably not the flu..."

"If it's not the flu, what is it then?" Charles asked, not waiting for an answer as he made his way out of their bedroom.

Elsie closed her eyes and fell asleep, an enigmatic smile on her lips.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** There is a tiny bit of smut involved here. It's difficult to get back into the swing of things, but I love this story too much not to try and help it along when I can. Please review if you feel like it!

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She shifted slightly, cuddling up closer to Charles who, like she, was reading a book. The bed was big, so much bigger than either had ever hoped for, but they always used only a small part of it. At least when they were... stationary. A blush crept over her cheeks and she bit her lip, stifling a giggle.

Charles wrapped an arm around her and she laid her head on his shoulder, turning the page in her book, thinking how much she preferred Charles over both Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley. She felt how Charles kissed the top of her head absentmindedly. She lowered her book and touched his chest through his pyjamas. He looked at her for a fleeting moment, smiled and returned to his novel.

"What are you reading?"

"It's _'The mysterious affair at Styles'_, it's a mystery novel. Or a murder mystery, or whatever they call it."

"That's a far cry from your usual Dickens." She put her own book on the nightstand, curling up against Charles completely now.

"It's very intriguing." He said and pulled her impossibly closer.

"Hmm..." She could hear his heart beat steadily under her ear, lulling her into a drowsy state of near sleep, when he suddenly closed his book and sat up a bit straighter, slightly jostling Elsie.

"What's the matter?" Her voice sounded higher than usual, not used to Charles being anything but slow and steady.

"I am trying to figure out a bit of a mystery myself and I simply cannot make head nor tail of it." He sounded a bit gruff, irritated.

"And what might that be?"

"I ran into Anna in the village the other day and she was looking better than last time I saw her, but she was coming from the doctor's so I asked her if she was ill and she simply said: "No, Mr Carson." and was on her way again. I find that very odd."

"There isn't anything odd about it." Elsie said, a happy smile emerging, rubbing her head against Charles' shoulder.

"But if she is looking better and she's still been to see the doctor, there has to be something." His worried voice made Elsie scramble up and sit back so she could look at him. She touched his cheek.

"It's alright. I expect she'll be starting to show soon." While this bit of information would have been enough for any woman, for Charles it only seemed to make less and less sense.

"What do you mean? Show what?"

Elsie shook her head with a tiny smile curling on her lips. "Really Charles? Do I have to spell it out?"

"I cannot talk with you when you are like this." Charles never did like to be the one finding out anything last and he really didn't like it when Elsie was being cryptic.

"Anna is expecting a baby, Charles." Elsie smiled widely, her eyes warm and loving as she took one of his hands in hers, squeezing it slightly.

"A baby?" He stared at her in utter surprise.

"Yes. A baby." Elsie bit her bottom lip, a giddy happiness threatening to shatter her composure.

"Oh." His gaze was on Elsie's body, clad in a soft cotton nightgown, but not seeing anything.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes. Yes, I think- I- erm - yes- it's just..." Charles mumbled.

"You hadn't expected it?" She stroked the back of his hand with her thumb.

"Isn't it a bit soon?"

"Soon? No, Charles. It's not a bit soon. Anna and John have been reunited for quite a while now. What do you think would have happened if you and I had married when we had been Anna's age? It wouldn't have taken long for us to start a family." Elsie laughed out loud, bringing his hand to her lips and kissing it.

"No... I suppose not." Charles looked at her, a bit perplexed still.

"It's the way things are supposed to go, Charles. Everything will be alright, you'll see." Elsie let go of his hand and moved to embrace him, putting her arms around his neck, moving up on her knees, her bottom pushed back.

"When did she tell you?" He whispered in her ear and he tried to remember when Anna had been at the cottage last, but that time she had not been alone with Elsie at all.

"She hasn't. But she will. It's obvious though, I think I've known it for quite some time now." She sighed happily, pressing her breasts against his chest. She started to nibble on his earlobe, trying to distract him from the news that had startled him so.

"You knew?" He grabbed the hem of her nightgown and inched it up slowly.

"Hmm..." For a moment she forgot what they were talking about when his hand disappeared under her nightgown and stealthily made its way towards her knickers. She breathed hard in Charles' ear.

"You didn't think to tell me?" A finger sneaked under the elastic, touching the soft skin of her bottom.

"No... " She moaned into Charles' mouth as she moved to kiss him. "I wasn't sure..."

His other hand pulled on her gown and she helped him take it off, the soft light of the bedside lamp dancing over her curves. His lips sought her nipple, drawing it in, licking and biting softly and she arched her back, pushing her center against his in obvious need.

Their kisses grew more heated with each new touch and before she knew it, she was under him, his naked form hovering above her and she was yearning for him to take her, to make them whole again.

He teased her, a little payback for her cryptic words earlier, kissing her exposed neck, touching the top of her thigh, fleeting kisses on her cheek, her collarbone, all the while keeping himself so close to her entrance she could feel him, but not entering. It was driving her wild. She pushed herself off the mattress, her legs open wide, willing him to take the plunge, but he drew back, only to coax her down again with the palm of his hand on her mound.

"Are you trying to punish me?" She breathed in his ear.

"Do you need punishing?" His voice was hoarse with desire.

"You be the judge..." She could hardly utter the words as the pads of his forefingers crept over her folds, opening her up, readying her even more. Her breath hitched in her throat and she moaned, loudly as he finally slid inside her, holding her close, slipping his arm around her waist, pulling her against him, her legs wrapped around him tightly, making it almost impossible for them to move.

He rocked them both, her arms around his neck, her fingers digging in his back, her nails leaving marks, as if she wanted to brand him. Her moans and pants were in his right ear as she gave herself freely without holding back, letting him drive her deep and hard. Her words, scattered and inconsistent echoed through the bedroom, the light playing with the colour of her hair, the paleness of her skin and she knew, she knew she was being loud, but she couldn't control it. She let her head fall back, her eyes were closed, trying to focus on their union alone.

He felt good. Right. As he changed his angle, she momentarily thought how her life would have been if they had left service together, how they might have owned a shop or an agency, but she couldn't concentrate on it, didn't want to. She wanted him to simply take her, let her fly, the familiar tightening of her lower stomach, the burn in her thighs, she was so ready to come, but he purposely avoided taking her there yet, keeping her in a state of blissful agony.

"Please..." she begged after a while, the bed creaking with their efforts. "Charles... please..."

She could feel Charles was getting tired, his thrusts not as pounding, his breathing laboured. She could hear how he was wheezing a bit, just like he did when they were still at Downton.

She reached around him, her hands planted firmly on his bottom, and she lifted her leg so it was almost under his arm and then, then finally he gave in, making her cry out his name, finally flying like she had wanted.

When she came down, he had rolled off her and he wrapped her in his strong arms. She put her head in the crook of his neck, kissing the soft skin there in tender loving. His heartbeat was steadying, his breathing evening out. The smell of what they had just done hung heavily in the air, somehow comforting Elsie. She could feel herself drift off to sleep, the thought of how much she loved Charles on the forefront of her mind, the knowledge her Anna was going to have a baby right next to it.

She had done it.

She had built her family.

* * *

**A/N 2**: This is the last chapter in this fic. Thank you all so much for reading, following and reviewing, it means a lot to me.


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